


Two Warriors (and a Rogue) in a Bed

by kaijuburgers



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Hawke (Dragon Age), Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Dragon Age II - Act 3, Face-Fucking, Hawke is the bisexual bottom Kirkwall needs but not the one it deserves, Historically accurate strap-ons (as much as anything in DA can be historically accurate), Implied Safeword System, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spitroasting, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:01:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijuburgers/pseuds/kaijuburgers
Summary: Right now is the first time in a long time where Hawke has felt powerless in a good way. He doesn’t have to make any decisions; not as Champion, not as head of the Amell estate, not even as Hawke, leader of a ragtag bunch of misfits. All he has to do is be here and follow orders.-Isabela and Fenris have Hawke.
Relationships: Fenris/Male Hawke/Isabela (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Two Warriors (and a Rogue) in a Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [athenril_of_kirkwall (al_fletcher)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_fletcher/gifts).



“Good boy,” Isabela purrs as she finally pushes her harnessed cock inside him. The movement is achingly slow, and Hawke wants to arch his back and push back against her, force her cock deeper inside him. But he can’t. He won’t. When the three of them started this—Fenris pulling on his hair, Isabela’s hands on his chest, and both of their mouths on his neck, leaving marks that’ll be visible in the morning—Isabela had laid down some ground rules. Including that he couldn’t move or touch either of them without permission. And _Maker_ , it’s the worst thing ever. Fenris—kneeling in front of him—chuckles, running a hand through Hawke’s already messy hair, and all Hawke can think about is how much he wants Fenris’ cock in his mouth and Isabela’s in his ass at the same time, wants to feel stretched out and filled up at both ends. And it would be so easy. His head is almost resting on Fenris’ thigh, just inches away from the hardening cock in the man’s breeches, so close that he could lean forward and press his lips against the man’s cock in an instant.

He could, but he doesn’t. Instead, his breath hitches, and in the almost empty bedroom he still keeps in the Hightown estate, the noise seems loud as a thunderclap. Behind him, Isabela laughs too, and he feels heat rising to his cheeks in response.

“He likes that,” she says—not to him—and Hawke doesn’t have to be looking at her to know she’s wearing a wide, bright grin. He loves it when she smiles like that, alive and volatile. It reminds him of the sea—and he knows she’d love that comparison—wild and free and unknowable. There’s a power in her, and he has no doubt that if she wanted she could be as cruel a mistress as the ocean, could toy with him like the stormy waves toy with ships. Maybe—just a little bit—he wants her to.

“He does.”

Fenris is a hard man to read, but that doesn’t mean that Hawke won’t try anyway. There’s a hint of softness in his voice, a gentleness in the way he cards fingers through Hawke’s dark curls, and that’s enough to make Hawke feel weak. And he wants to feel weak. The ground rules may be the worst thing ever but they’re also the best thing ever, because right now is the first time in a long time where Hawke has felt powerless in a good way. He doesn’t have to make any decisions; not as Champion, not as head of the Amell estate, not even as Hawke, leader of a ragtag bunch of misfits. All he has to do is be here and follow orders.

“Want to take him from the other end?”

Fenris chuckles again, and there’s something deep and dangerous in it that makes Hawke feel breathless. “I plan to.”

Fenris’ cock feels so good in his mouth, and Hawke wants to move so badly it aches. he wants to take Fenris’ cock down to the root while Isabela thrusts so deep inside of him that he can’t think of anything but the fact that he belongs to the two of them. But he hasn’t been allowed to move yet, so all he can do is drool around it. Instead of moving, he stays still, waiting for Fenris to fuck him. His obedience is rewarded. When Fenris finally, _finally_ moves his hips forward, pushing that cock deeper into Hawke’s mouth and then his throat, it’s so deep that Hawke feels like he can’t take it any more. But he does. He pushes his gag reflex down as best he can—and it’s made harder by the way that Isabela is fucking him, the tip of her cock pressing against his prostate with each steady gentle snap of her hips—and tries to good and obedient and pliant for them both, for as long as he can.

 _They’re good to me_ , is all he can think when Fenris pulls out, right when he knows for sure he’s at his limit. _So fucking good to me. Read me so well._ His throat aches a little, but he doesn’t think about it much. He can’t, not when Isabela is still fucking him and when Fenris’ cock is still only a few inches away. It’s a gorgeous cock—not the beautiful clear quartz of Isabela’s cock, but gorgeous nevertheless. It’s long and slim, a slight curve to the right. But more importantly it’s Fenris’ cock, and that means that Hawke wants it in his mouth _so_ badly.

“How does his mouth feel?” Isabela asks. Fenris hums as though deep in thought, his fingers dancing across Hawke’s cheek gently. Hawke flushes at the touch, leaning his weight into the elf.

“Perfect.”

Hawke can’t help but squirm at the praise. And that must do something for Isabela, because her breath catches and her skin feels even hotter against his.

“Andraste’s tits, look at him. Just look at him, Fenris.” There’s a shift in Isabela’s voice, a kind of subtle downward tilt that Hawke wouldn’t notice if not for the years the three of them have spent together. It carries her expression with it, lets him know that something a little cruel has slipped into that wide bright smile. “He’d look even better stretched around your cock.”

Hawke gasps, and it’s so hard it feels like his lungs have emptied themselves of air in an instant. Fenris gives a bemused murmur.

“So eager to pass him over to me?”

“Oh no,” Isabela says, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I was thinking both of us. Together. In him at the same time.”

A jolt runs through Hawke and he exhales sharply. _I want that_ , is all he can think, I want that so badly. It takes all of his focus to bite back a moan at the idea of the two of them pressed into him like that, fucking him in turn or—even better—fucking him together, two cocks slamming into him at the same time. From the way Fenris’ cock twitches at Isabela’s words, Hawke is pretty sure he’s not the only one having that kind of reaction.

“Well, you think he can take that? Both of us at once?” Isabela’s voice is dark and sinful, and Hawke can imagine she’s running her tongue along the sharp edges of her teeth and onto her lips at the thought. She moves her hand from his hip—where she’s held him, pulling him back and forward on her cock—to the back of his neck, lightly brushing over his back, and he can’t help but want to melt into her touch. “What about you? Do you want that, sweetness?”

“ _Please,_ ” is all Hawke can manage to say.

They change positions and so Hawke bent over on his hands and knees with Fenris beneath him, his cock already in the larger man. Isabela insisted on them using more oil to do this, and even though it means the dark bottle at his bedside is empty, Hawke appreciates it, just as he appreciates the way the two of them stretched him out on their fingers as well. When Fenris pushed his cock inside Hawke, it had been quick and smooth and easy, and hopefully the second will feel the same. The tip of Isabela’s cock is pressed against his ass, and knowing that makes him tremble with anticipation.

“Are you ready?” the pirate asks, stroking his hair. The gesture is so kind and gentle and Hawke feels so small and overwhelmed that it takes him a moment to figure out how to reply, let alone say it. When he opens his mouth, he can’t quite will his tongue to speak the words aloud. A few seconds pass, and then Fenris’ hand is in his.

“Hawke? Do you remember the watchword?” Fenris asks. “Squeeze once for no, twice for yes.”

Hawke squeezes, twice. The elf’s hand seems so small in his, and so soft given what he’s seen the man do with them. Fenris’ body relaxes slightly, the tension he’d been keeping all vanishing at once.

“Are you ready?”

Again, Hawke squeezes twice. Fenris leans upwards to plant a kiss on his cheek and Isabela follows his lead, turning Hawke’s head so she can gently kiss him on the other. When she pushes back inside him, it’s even gentler and slower than before, and this time Hawke is grateful for it rather than frustrated. He’s been stretched out this much before, technically. The large toy he keeps in his bedside cabinet—inconspicuously hidden behind his copy of _Watching Paint Dry II: The Second Coat_ and that he takes every opportunity to ride that he can—is about the size of their two cocks put together, but somehow this feels more intense. He feels stretched out beyond belief. _He feels like theirs._


End file.
